<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Always in the Blood by emeraldvixen</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30107346">Always in the Blood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldvixen/pseuds/emeraldvixen'>emeraldvixen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arranged Marriage, Boss! Klaus, F/M, General Mafia Attitude Towards Women, Mentions of Violence, Mob Boss! Klaus, but it's not bad promise, god i want them to bang so bad, happy ish ending, mafia! au, mentions of other dark things</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:55:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30107346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldvixen/pseuds/emeraldvixen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A mafia AU in which, following the death of her father, Caroline finds herself married to Klaus. Naturally, she tries to kill him on their wedding day.</p><p>For AU Week 2021: Rebellion.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>162</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Klaroline Events</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Always in the Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here's me, back on my bullshit. This idea is from a TikTok user called chamberofsecretbooks. </p><p>Mentions of violence towards women, general violence, discussions of suicide. I don't think anything is disturbing or graphic, but please be kind to yourselves if those are sensitive subjects for you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A deep breath, a turn of the gemstone, and a gentle shake of her hand was all it took. Caroline didn’t watch the powder dissolve for fear of drawing attention. Instead, she did exactly as she’d been trained to - eyes up, focus locked, and an inquisitive expression designed to draw the viewer’s eye to whatever she was so perplexed by. </p><p>It was the perfect plan. She’d seen the particular bottle of wine she’d chosen on the gift table, brought from the Castle’s estate, probably. The bartender had poured it, but under Elijah’s direction. It had sat on the counter next to the Mikaelson Underboss, Marcel, for at least thirty seconds before she’d lifted it. Yes, enough people were involved to make the investigation difficult. Anyone of them could have poisoned him, really. All four had perfectly good motives. </p><p>Meanwhile, she would act the part of the naive bride trying to make a good first impression on his acquaintances. A role she was born to play.</p><p>There weren’t many people still in the lounge, just enough that her lingering wasn’t suspicious as long as she made it seem as though she was looking for someone. Job done, she took the wine and dragged her feet through to the busy drawing room.</p><p>It was easy to find him. It always was. The centre of every room, the subject of every conversation, the heart of all her problems. Well, a lot of them anyway. </p><p>The room was raucous and celebratory. It was disgusting, how they celebrated her pain and raised a toast to a sham of a marriage - her marriage - as she passed. The marriage alone meant that Niklaus had won, and what weight did a woman’s feelings have compared to the great triumph of the Boss?</p><p>She walked quickly and held out the glass to him. There was a coldness in her eyes certainly, but nothing unkind about her delivery. Besides, no one would dare call her out. Not when she belonged to him alone. </p><p>The grin faded from his expression as he met her gaze with a similar intensity. “Sweetheart?” he purred, taking the glass before beckoning to his thigh. “Sit?” </p><p>Cruel of him to frame an order as a question. She hadn’t been in his presence for longer than a few hours before they’d said their vows, but years of rumours and horror stories had taught her enough. Caroline knew in her heart of hearts that her new husband was a desperately cruel man. </p><p>She’d known it from the first time they’d met, eyes locking across the room at one of the city’s charity galas set on neutral ground. She’d known it when he’d sent her flowers on her last birthday to the same address that he usually sent her father bodies. She’d known it when he’d opened the car door for her just yesterday and taken in the wild tear tracks left by her mascara while his eyes stripped her bare. </p><p>Cruel. Crueler still when he’d tried to comfort her. </p><p>
  <em>You’ll be safe here.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I won’t let anything happen to you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m very sorry about your father, sweetheart.</em>
</p><p>There was no option but to sit. Defy him so publicly and she’d be taken out of the room and left alone with him, and that thought scared her more than anything else. Best to stay in public, even if these were his men, his family, his friends. He probably wouldn’t kill her in front of them. </p><p>Caroline stepped to the side of his legs and delicately sat across his lap, a hand on his shoulder to keep her balance. </p><p>She refused to look at him. The ring around her finger was bad enough, the house which wasn’t hers, the pleasantries she’d had to exchange with sworn enemies. The last day had been hell. And now this new torture - proximity. </p><p>She longed to see him drink in the knowledge that with one swallow, he wouldn’t make it to their marriage bed. God, she craved it. </p><p>Caroline had to force herself not to flinch when his hand settled on her thigh. Her dress was thin, just a form fitting sheet of silk they’d laid on her bed that morning - the complete antithesis of the fairytale ballgown she’d imagined as a kid. The one she was supposed to have. </p><p>His hand was hot, burning heat through the fabric and onto her skin. </p><p>The chatter of the room carried on around them, his family content to continue their merriment while the couple took a minute to themselves. That’s what it might have looked like, at least, to the guests in attendance. In reality, Caroline was listening to the sound of her thundering heartbeat and trying to keep her breathing under control. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he scared her, nor could she give away any hint of the poison in his hand. </p><p>She could feel his stare, but didn’t meet it. </p><p>How had her life come to this? </p><p>She’d done everything right. She’d played her part, learned all the tricks and been the doting mafia daughter for years. She’d even gone through with an engagement to protect her family, their power and their territory. Most of all, she’d agreed with it to help her father. She’d trusted that he would keep her safe. </p><p>She hated how badly he’d failed. What would Bill Forbes say if he could see his daughter in the arms of Niklaus Mikaelson? The shock might have killed him all over again. </p><p><em>‘Damon Salvatore is a good man,’</em> he’d told her. <em>‘You’ll be happy with him.’</em></p><p>Famous last words.</p><p>Caroline may not have been deeply involved in the business, but she was certain that Damon had plenty to do with her father’s death. The way her father’s Underboss had just accepted the new leader of the territory was all too convenient. Usually the death of the Boss would lead to civil war, but Saltzman had rolled over when Salvatore came to claim the turf.</p><p>She’d only met Damon once, but once was enough. Her bruises were still fresh from where he’d beat her for daring to suggest that he uphold their engagement.  </p><p>As soon as he had control, he’d sought assurance that the Mikaelson’s wouldn’t make a play for his newly expanded territory. Of all the things he could have bargained in return, the devil himself had asked for her. The deal was done. </p><p>A day later, she wore his ring.</p><p>Caroline looked down at the band on her finger before twisting to face him.</p><p>Klaus didn’t hesitate to meet her eyes. Their staring match went on for just a second before he lifted the glass to her lips. </p><p>Her heart skipped a beat.</p><p>“I’m not thirsty,” she said quietly enough that those around wouldn’t pick up on her disrespect. </p><p>“I don’t care,” he replied unfazed. “Drink.” </p><p>Another order. </p><p>Well, Caroline would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about taking the poison herself for the last day. Father gone, engagement broken, handed over like a gift to the most powerful Boss in the city. The one who haunted her nightmares. How many of her father’s men had Niklaus sent to their home in pieces? She knew of at least a dozen. </p><p>What kind of life lay ahead for her on his arm? How could she ever know happiness when he frightened her down to the core? His hands only knew violence. They could only provide pain and heartache. There was no amount of pretending that could convince her tired soul otherwise. He deserved to die. They all did.</p><p>Yes, she’d thought about ending it all, but she’d also decided against it. She didn’t fear death. No one got out of their world alive, not even the innocents. Not even her. But she wanted to live a little first. It would always be difficult under the thumb of whatever man she was tied to, but she was sure it was possible. At least, she wanted it to be.</p><p>So when he ordered her to drink, it took her a long beat to make her decision. Caroline knew poisons inside and out, and she’d chosen wisely. Nothing too specific that it could be traced back to her family, not easily detectable in an autopsy, and easily cured if you knew how. </p><p>Easy, that is, if you could find all the ingredients you needed on your wedding night. </p><p><em>Vitamin K, Calcium, Sodium Bicarbonate… </em>she rattled off mentally before letting her fingers trail over his to steady the glass.

Not the outcome she’d wanted, but one she could survive. Maybe. Possibly. With just a little luck. And if she drank, perhaps he would too.</p><p>Best play the part well. Caroline took a swig, careful to not spill red on her dress. Wine wasn’t her favourite at the best of times, but knowing what was in it made it worse. Her body resisted her attempt to swallow, but with gritted teeth and an expert fasade, she forced it down in a single gulp. </p><p>When she turned to face him again, his jaw was set tight. Klaus’ nostrils flared and his eyes looked positively murderous. </p><p>
  <em>He knows. </em>
</p><p>She didn’t feel the panic she’d expected to. Instead, for the first time in a long time, Caroline felt the bursting rush of joy. If she couldn’t make herself a cure, she’d be gone, and he’d be wifeless again. Whatever horrendous plot he’d had planned for her would be foiled. She’d die, yes, but she’d die having bested the man her father loathed most of all. </p><p>Caroline grinned at his fury and wound her arms around his neck. Just two newlyweds, enjoying a little alone time. They’d blame him for her death. It wouldn’t make a difference - no one would seek revenge for a woman who belonged to him - but they’d all know what a monster he was.</p><p>She still wanted to live, but lord, what a temptation he set out.</p><p>Klaus swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, catching the last taste of wine before sucking it off. Not enough to kill him, unfortunately. </p><p>“Do you know why I asked for your hand, love?” </p><p>It was the most he’d said to her all day, other than his vows. Their first conversation, given that she’d been unable to do much more than cry when they’d met yesterday. </p><p>Caroline leaned in until the scent of his cologne filled her senses and she was sure that they wouldn't be overheard. “Because you’re deranged and enjoy watching people suffer?”</p><p>“Because you are incredibly brave,” Klaus replied, reaching up to brush curls behind her ear before settling his hand on her thigh again. “Light and beautiful, but brave. I hadn’t thought that that bravery would lead you to foolishness, but here we are.”</p><p>“Foolishness?” she repeated, shifting on his lap just to feel the gun stowed at his hip. “I know I’d be better off dead than as your wife. I’d call that smart.” </p><p>Klaus’ laugh was a quiet thing, but it made heads turn all the same. A sound they weren’t used to hearing perhaps, but Caroline didn’t have time to enjoy the attention. </p><p>This was exactly what she’d been warned about. His glee in the face of violence. The mania. The volatility of his impulsiveness. Christ, there were so many stories over the years, she wished she’d paid closer attention to the finer details, but it wasn’t her job. Women didn’t have anything to do with the business, and her father had been determined that his daughter would live up to that ideal. </p><p>Klaus’ hand held her thigh tight as he sat up to press a gentle kiss on her jaw. She held perfectly still, waiting for the bite. “Now that’s just not true, is it? We could be quite the pair, assuming you stop making silly attempts on my life,” he murmured in her ear. </p><p>“Scared I’d be successful?” </p><p>“Your track record does not give me cause for concern.” He brought the glass up to his nose for just a second before humming, “xoggifyde. A favourite of your mother’s, if I’m not mistaken.”</p><p>Caroline shivered. What could he possibly know of her mother? </p><p>“Understand this. I’m the only person who’ll decide if you live or die.”</p><p>She snapped out of her shock and chortled. “Doesn’t seem like it.”</p><p>“It’s true. Take a look around, even in this room alone. How long did you think you’d last? What was the plan, love? Play the doting widow and walk out the front door? Without me, you’d only ever leave in a bodybag.”</p><p>“It would have been worth it,” she whispered. </p><p>“And now?” he pressed his forehead against hers, and for just a second she swore he was going to kiss her. “Is it worth it?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“You’d die for nothing. You’d die a Mikaelson, under my roof, as my wife.”</p><p>Caroline shook her head, letting her nose bump up against his. “I’ll die having never graced your bed.” </p><p>Despite the disgust, she felt the urge to kiss him. Perhaps it was the burning of guest’s eyes watching them, the memory of their kiss at the altar, or the unequivocally attractive jut of his cheekbones. Later she’d tell herself that it was the wine. </p><p>Klaus hummed before he leaned back and relaxed against his seat. “We could go upstairs now, if you’d like.”</p><p>With the newfound space between them, she couldn’t say what was on her mind for fear of being overheard. With a grind of her teeth, Caroline tried to stand but was held firm when his hand squeezed her thigh.  She swallowed down the majority of her frustration and leaned over to whisper in his ear with as much malice as she could muster. “I’d rather shoot myself.”</p><p>“You are magnificent,” he announced, looking up so their faces were close once again.</p><p>“Can I get up now? If I only have an hour left, I’d like to spend it without you.”</p><p>“Caroline,” he sighed, though the reverence had bled out of his expression and left behind something more serious. “You’re not going to die tonight.”</p><p>She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words. He sounded so sure and calm, when she felt anything but. </p><p>“Aren’t you in the least bit interested, sweetheart? From the very first day I saw you, I could see that your talents were being wasted. Would you be happy married to Damon Salvatore?”</p><p>Caroline couldn’t help but laugh a helpless, dark chuckle. After meeting Damon the day before, there was only one thing she was sure of - she’d never be happy in his company. Charming enough in front of her grieving mother and her father’s men, but when they were alone… </p><p>No man would ever leave marks on her again and live to tell the tale. </p><p>“You think I’m happy married to you?” she breathed.</p><p>“I think you could be.”</p><p>Caroline sat back, wide eyed at his gumption. </p><p>Klaus continued with no concern for who could be listening in. She supposed he didn’t need it. He could say whatever he wanted. “You played the part well, but you wouldn’t have been happy. Washing blood out of clothes, making dinner only for him to be out late, hiding bruises when the family came to visit.”</p><p>Caroline’s breath hitched. She’d hoped that the makeup would cover them. “I didn’t ask for this life,” she hissed.</p><p>“No one does. Would it have been enough for you?”</p><p>She glared incredulously, growing bolder with every play he let her get away with. “Of course not.”</p><p>“I’ll give you more. You’ll want for nothing here.”</p><p>“You must think I’m stupid.”</p><p>“On the contrary, I think you’re the most clever of them all. That’s why I like you.” </p><p>Caroline balked. She looked around the room, watching as the guests politely averted their eyes. His lap wasn’t exactly comfortable seating. Leaning down again, she let her fingers play in the short hairs at the back of his neck. “You pretend to be better than him. I know you’re the same. Maybe worse.”</p><p>It was a thrill having his interest and finally, finally being able to speak freely. She might pay for it later, but she just didn’t care anymore. She’d be dead soon anyway. His thumb stroked at her thigh absentmindedly while he replied, “you shan’t do my laundry, nor do I need you to cook. I can assure you that you’ll find no violence in this house. I meant it when I said that you are safe here. No one will touch you unless you ask them too, or else they’ll answer to me.” </p><p>“You’re touching me right now.” </p><p>“Is it unpleasant?” </p><p>Caroline nearly shivered under his stare. No, his hand on her thigh was possessive and intimate, but not unpleasant. She shook her head. </p><p>“Well, we must keep up appearances, mustn’t we?” he hummed. “He’ll die for touching you, Caroline.” </p><p>There was no trust between them, but Caroline just <em>knew</em> that it was the truth. She certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea. Still, the promise reminded her of an inescapable fact. “I’m dying.”</p><p>Once again, the hand on her thigh tightened. She watched as Klaus set down the poisoned glass before he pressed back her hair and leaned in. When he spoke, his breath brushed along her skin. “No, but if you ever attempt something like this again, on your life or my own, I’ll make you wish you had.” </p><p>There was something in his tone, somewhere between threatening and affectionate, that’d made her turn. When she did, he caught her lips with his own and silenced her gasp with a fierce passion. The adrenaline high she’d been surviving on cranked up again, and she felt <em>everything</em>. </p><p>Around them, she could hear the hoots and haulers of onlookers. She could feel her own rapid heartbeat and the firm grip on her thigh which kept her grounded. He tasted like whiskey and empty threats, and she found that she liked him a lot better when he wasn’t talking. </p><p>Without warning, he pulled her away with a firm, but not painful, fist in her hair. </p><p>Caroline panted as she tried to rationalise what she’d done and why she wanted to do it again and again. </p><p>Klaus’ eyes were dark when they dipped to take the wet parting of her lips. He licked his own before pinning her with a devilish smirk. “You’re going to get up now. You’re going to go to the kitchen and take the antidote I’ve left next to the stove. Then, you’re going to pour us both a drink. You’ll come back immediately and sit right here on my lap. After that we’ll have a conversation about what to do with the man who hurt you.” </p><p>She stroked her hand across his cheek while she weighed the proposition. Caroline didn’t take well to orders. God knows there was a part of her that wanted to refuse him, but it was overpowered by her growing desperation to live. She was running out of time.</p><p>His hands slid from her body. “Go on,” he urged.</p><p>“You’ll really kill him?” she breathed, using his shoulder to steady herself as she stood.</p><p>Klaus just grinned his response and caught her hand to press his lips against tender skin, a quiet promise laid just above her wedding band. </p><p>Without another word, Caroline turned and headed for the kitchen. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on Tumblr @euvixen. Please drop a comment below to make my day and earn a #funfact. Thank you so much for reading, friends x</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>